


Refractions Through a Prism

by loosingletters



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It of Sorts, Fuck the Noise out of Anakin Skywalker's Head, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Selfcest, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Time Travel, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, and they were switches, bottom darth vader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: Eight years after the creation of the Empire, Darth Vader finds a way to return to his past. Staring into the eyes of his younger self, he expected to be disgusted at his naivety, to hate him. Instead, he found himself drawn to the brightness of Anakin Skywalker, the light so unlike his own darkness. And he wanted to keep it.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader
Comments: 35
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote one (1) respectable smut, now I can write 6 chapters of Anakin and Vader + Obi-Wan.  
> I apologize to everybody who expected me to actually post quality stuff and hello to all my terrible enablers. Thanks to Poet for the title of this story!

“You are back,” Vader told his younger self.

Anakin grimaced briefly, but then attempted to school his expression into a more neutral one and, predictably, failed at it. There was nothing he could hide from Vader. He knew Anakin better than the Jedi knew himself. He was aware of all his strengths and weaknesses, all his flaws. Anakin’s guilt at his visit was palatable, each time he returned, he only confirmed what Vader already knew and Anakin couldn’t accept yet: their fates were irrevocably tied together.

He couldn’t stay away from Vader the same way Vader didn’t want to be separated from him either. Where before, in a different timeline, Anakin would have spent all hours on Coruscant with his darling wife, sweet Padmé who hadn’t loved him as much as he had adored her, he now returned to Vader’s prison cell in the Jedi temple. Anakin always had a feeble excuse, such as asking for intelligence on the war effort, information that was to no real use with Dooku and Sidious both dead at Vader’s hands, or, as of lately, fixing Vader’s prosthetics.

Vader had never attempted to do so, his Master’s collar around his throat much too tight, and he certainly wouldn’t give his prisoner the comfort of painless limbs, but he also was no Jedi.

He had been made from Anakin Skywalker, but Vader had been born on the shores of Mustafar, and unlike his sweet younger self, he would have let his prisoner suffer.

“Yes,” Anakin replied and put a heavy case on the table. “I finished up on your prosthetics.”

Anakin had fixated on them when he had seen their horrible condition. The Jedi had taken them off Vader to make him less of a threat at first, but they had also seen to fixing his damaged vocal tracts and many of his other injuries Sidious had left untreated or fixed only superficially. He could breathe on his own now, had proper hearing aids and skin grafts that no longer felt like his flesh was being rubbed raw with every movement. He had healed to an impressive degree. What Sidious had deemed impossible twelve years in the future, the Jedi had done only in a few months. Their compassion was truly unimaginable.

Anakin opened up the case, revealing four metal limbs, all of them fine-tuned machinery of black and gold. He must have based them on his first prosthetic, the one he had kept and Anakin would never have.

Vader had truly changed his mirror’s future, bringing home Shmi Skywalker, alive still. The darkness had rumbled in pleasure as he had decimated the Tusken camp once more and even now it hummed in satisfaction seeing the exercising of Vader’s will and Force realized in Anakin Skywalker’s wellbeing.

This was Vader’s doing. He had changed the course of destiny, he had set his younger self on an entirely different path.

Him, and only him, nobody else could ever do for Anakin what he had done, be as close to him.

“They are perfect,” he praised Anakin and reveled in the way his simple words caused Anakin to flush.

“We should attach them,” Anakin said and went about getting out his tools. “Arms or legs first?”

“Legs,” Vader replied and leaned back against the wall. The prosthetics the Jedi had given him for the duration were a little uncomfortable, but nothing as horrible as the one Sidious had provided him with. He could last a little longer with the dreadful constructions that made up his arms, but walking on the metal rods embedded in his knees wouldn’t aid him once he broke free of his prison.

Though, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave quite yet. He didn’t want to be anywhere in this time without his light mirror by his side, reflecting a thousand possibilities. Just being near Anakin brought sweet relief to the black void lingering in Vader’s soul. The rising storms calmed, stopped chipping away at the cliffs. The few moments Anakin had touched him, just to assess where the limbs would attach, had ignited a flame, constantly eating at him, devouring and burning in outrage when Anakin wasn’t there to tend to it.

“Alright.”

Vader watched as Anakin took his new legs and set them on the bed next to Vader. Then he slowly sunk to his knees in front of Vader. He looked up once, questioning, and when Vader nodded, he began detaching the legs he had been given previously. The metal constructions hissed as the clasps were undone. Carefully, Anakin set the replacements aside and reached for the ones he had built. With one hand on the metal and one on Vader’s thigh, he connected flesh with metal. For just a brief moment, his nerve endings felt as if they were set aflame again. Then the pain passed and Vader became aware of his new limb. Slowly he moved his foot in circles, testing out the joints. It was much better than his previous model.

“Everything working as it should?” Anakin asked.

Vader became acutely aware that Anakin’s hand was still resting on his thigh, not having moved even one inch.

“Yes, this is much better than what I was used to. Thank you, _Anakin_.”

His younger self beamed up at him and then began working on his second leg. What wouldn’t Vader do to keep Anakin right here between his legs, on his knees. He had entertained the thought of taking his younger self, forcing the same darkness down his throat that had been fed to Vader, he was hardly that far away from it.

And yet, somehow, the thought of keeping his Jedi mirror by his side was much more appealing. Vader had been caught in too much fury to recognize it when he had arrived in this time, in the Jedi’s custody. He had hated them so much, even when holding his mother’s body he had wanted to strike Anakin down and the only reason he hadn’t was the fact that Shmi would hate him.

Vader could bear much, but not his mother discarding him.

Now, however, he didn’t want to make Anakin his apprentice. He wanted him to be just as he was, a light for Vader to devour and keep. A Jedi kneeling freely at his Sith Master’s throne would certainly be a much more terrifying sight to behold.

Anakin stood up and Vader found himself wanting to push him down again, but he had no fortunate enough excuse to do so. Though, admittedly, Anakin might just let him anyway.

“Time to attach your arms,” Anakin said and crawled onto the bed, the mattress dipping down where he focused his weight. “I’ll see if I can get you something to train your hands with that’s not boring shapes or so. I’d go mad if I had nothing to do but sit around all day.”

Oh, Anakin definitely would. He had never been one for patience, unlike Vader, who had learned it with the steady beat of the machine forcing air into his lungs. He was glad to be rid of it.

“May I?” Anakin asked, his hands lingering on the edge of the black robes covering Vader’s torso.

Vader could undress himself, but who was he to deny Anakin anything? And he’d be lying to himself if he pretended he wasn’t desperate to be touched by someone alive and not artificial.

“Go ahead.”

Much more slowly than necessary, Anakin removed Vader’s robes, exposing the pale and scarred skin beneath it. He put laid them down at the edge of the bed, far out of the way and only then allowed his gaze to linger on the damaged flesh. The Jedi had done what they could to fix it, but it was still far from Anakin’s almost unblemished skin. AS if in trance, Anakin raised his hands to touch one of the larger scars, stopping only a few millimeters above it, caught in the realization of what he was about to do.

“I’m sorry-“

Vader didn’t care for apologizes, not anymore. He hadn’t in years. Apologizes were just excuses, if he truly wanted something, one should take it. Not quite snarling, he reached for Anakin’s hips, the feeling in his hands amiss. The limbs Anakin had crafted for him would certainly allow for the sensation of pressure, the warmth of a casual touch.

“Hey, what are you-“

It was fortunate that the guards trusted Anakin by now after his many visits. They didn’t keep a close watch on Vader anymore, though by all means, they should, especially given how frowned upon Anakin’s visits actually were. Not many knew how much his dear precious Master disapproved of them and Vader couldn’t claim that he didn’t enjoy the thought it. Poor Obi-Wan Kenobi, unable to keep his apprentice away from the darkness in any life or iteration.

Vader pulled Anakin onto his lap, as close as he could until only mere centimeters were separating their faces.

“Vader,” Anakin hissed, the blush that had colored his cheeky rosy only intensifying. “What are you doing?”

“You wanted to change my arms,” Vader replied. “I believe it might be easier for you to do so.”

It was not, and if that had been the point of it, Vader would let go of Anakin’s hips. Instead, he held onto them, squeezed just a bit, strong enough to leave bruises for sure, perhaps even a little too harshly, but he couldn’t care. He almost wanted his former Master to see his apprentice change, notice the visible marks Vader had left on him.

Anakin didn’t look like he would mind. If anything, his eyes glazed a little over, something sweet and pure flashed over his face. His dear mirror, still so innocent and light.

When Anakin didn’t move, Vader saw it fit to do so. With his right hand, he reached to touch Anakin’s lower back, pressing him further against himself and earning a little gasp in turn. Just as he had thought, his dear light half enjoyed this, but Vader had to admit that it was similar for him. The warmth of Anakin against him, the feeling the rise and fall of his chest- it was _intoxicating_. He never wanted to miss this proof of life again. Death had surrounded him for years and years, the hunger of the dark side and all that rotted and decayed in it. Anakin was like spring by comparison, delicate youth and fragile kindness.

Motivated by his other self’s reaction and his own growing desire, Vader reached out with his mind and put his fingers against the walls behind which Anakin hid. He traced along the cracks he had always just seen from the inside, knowing how devastating they could become by now, then he dug his claws into them, tearing them open. He wanted to see what it was like within his own mind, wanted to make himself at home within Anakin and let him fill out all the vibrance Vader was missing. Anakin, unused to such precise attacks, recoiled at first, but as soon as he realized who it was demanding entrance he simply stopped, let it happen, invited it and finally tore down his durasteel walls himself. He didn’t stop until their fingers, hearts, _minds_ were touching, ebbing and flowing into one another.

Vader became acutely aware of Anakin’s hands, both of them made out of flesh as he had never faced Dooku, digging into Vader’s shoulders, searching for something to hold on.

 _Mine_ , Vader demanded. _You’re mine, we were supposed to be whole and now we are._

Anakin gasped, whined almost when Vader, satisfied with what he had found returned to his own headspace. Anakin leaned into his touch, put his forehead against Vader’s to chase his embrace even in the real world. When Vader opened his eyes, he found himself staring into Anakin’s blue ones, pupils blown wide with lust and want.

“What are you doing?” Anakin repeated with a shaky breath.

“Can’t you feel it?” Vader asked. “This is the will of the Force. Both of us, _united_.”

He raised the hand that was not still placed on Anakin’s lower back and put it to Anakin’s chin, tilting his head down.

“We are one and the same,” Vader continued on. “We are meant to exist like this.”

Constantly pushing and pulling, closer and closer until they crashed into one another, occupied the same space and couldn’t be separated anymore. It didn’t even need any Force to make Anakin cross the final distance between the two of them until his lips finally touched Vader’s. Hesitant at first, then he finally let go of Vader’s shoulders to cross his arms behind his neck. Vader licked at Anakin’s lips, demanded entrance, sucked and bit at them. It felt divine, being so intricately connected. He only separated from his young mirror image for air, though he thought that just in this case he wouldn’t mind drowning in Anakin’s comfort.

Anakin apparently thought similarly as he chased after Vader’s touch as soon as he lost it, protested even when he didn’t get what he wanted. Vader smirked against Anakin’s lips and, then tangled his hands in Anakin’s hair pulling at the golden locks to get access to Anakin’s exposed throat. He sucked at the bronze skin, enjoyed the way it left visible hickeys where not even the Jedi robes would hide entirely.

 _Good_.

“What would your dear Master say now, Anakin?” He asked him. “Seeing you finding completion in the lap of your nightmares.”

Anakin only glared at him and then, almost a little viciously, with a hint of the frustration that could grow into galaxy devouring anger, dropped his hands and pulled one of Vader’s arms between them, trailed over the connections between it and his skin, the sensation almost maddening.

“I don’t care about what Obi-Wan thinks,” Anakin stated, his voice as hard as beskar.

Vader smiled in satisfaction and leaned back just so that Anakin had more space to work. He wouldn’t be able to walk out of this room in a composed matter, no matter how much he’d try to hide it.

“You shouldn’t,” Vader told him. “He’ll only hold us back. He doesn’t understand.”

Anakin detached his arm and reached for the one he had crafted, black and golden, Vader dared to think it was even better than the one he had made the first time around.

“He never has,” Anakin replied and, tracing alongside the wires, attached the arm to the port. “He never will.”

No, Obi-Wan couldn’t. The universe didn’t sing to him the way it did for them. Where they heard thousands of voices crying out and had to work to shut them out, Obi-Wan had to actively search for the whispers of the stars. How was he supposed to understand what drew the two of them closer to one another, that the thought of separation after this was almost unbearable?

“But we do, we understand each other, more than anyone else.”

Anakin smiled at him, free of all inhabitations he had before, and Vader found himself echoing it. Nothing could come in-between them, they wouldn’t let it. Vader watched as Anakin continued working on his arms and, once he was finished, used his newly attached limbs to pull Anakin close again and just hold him, enjoy the way the universe around them quieted until all he heard was Anakin’s heartbeat, beating in tune with his own as it always had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> No smut yet, but next chapter.  
> "But Eli," you say, "how can Vader even have sex?"  
> And I tell you, I work based on The Rule of Darth Maul: the injury is where the smut demands it.  
> Idk what you're doing here expecting actually quality.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like that this is a multichapter story because this forces me to actually do what I wanted here: practice smut.  
> Have fun.

From the moment on Anakin had first seen his other half, he had been drawn to him. There were no words that could describe the hymn which had surrounded him when the Sith’s shadow had engulfed him. Anakin had been terrified, such darkness unknown to him. Yet, he hadn’t hesitated in submitting to that impossible night when Vader had saved his mother, unaware of what but his own life he could give Vader in retribution for saving his mother’s.

The Sith had since made it obvious what he wanted of Anakin, and he was happy to share his soul with him. Despite what the Jedi thought, what Obi-Wan thought, seeing his mirror image had only pushed Anakin further to the light side. They designed themselves in opposition, Vader clad in the dark robes Anakin used to be so fond of wearing while Anakin had returned to the light colors he wore during his early days at the temple.

While never one with the patience or control for healing, Anakin had acquired the skill for his other half, restoring as much of his body as he could.

Vader was so similar to him and yet there were a million cracks and heartbreaks separating the two. Where Vader’s eyes were a burning gold and the dark side wrapped his body in ice, Anakin felt the heat of a sun beneath his skin, saw the blue sky with his eyes.

They were opposites and they were not; born from the same mother, the same Force, made with the same soul. Anakin had often wondered what could possibly break him so that it would leave him in the state he had found Vader in, what torture he must have endured that he hadn’t even dared to fix the machines keeping him alive.

But that had been months ago.

Now they were finally one, joined in the chaos created in harmony, in minds melting where bodies touched. With heat in his eyes, Vader kissed Anakin, bit on his lip so that Anakin had to gasp from the sudden pain. Vader only took that reaction as an invitation to deepen the kiss even more, tangling his fingers in Anakin’s short hair and tilting his head upwards so that he could get better access to his neck. He trailed kisses down Anakin’s throat, then sucked at a spot on his neck, drawing another moan from Anakin’s throat. He licked over the sensitive skin, bit at it, sunk his teeth into him.

Anakin was already incredibly hard in his pants and Vader hadn’t even bothered to undress him yet. He seemed perfectly fine teasing Anakin through his clothes, running his fingers over the bulge in his pants and leaving Anakin to suffer. Anakin whined, causing his older self to laugh, a rough sound that he couldn’t imagine his own throat producing.

“ _Stop it_ ,” Anakin ordered.

Vader didn’t appear to hear him as he just continued with his ministrations, slipping his hands beneath Anakin’s light robes and pinching his nipples.

“Mhm, you look good in white,” Vader muttered, then, with one hand on Anakin’s shoulder, tipped him back so that he was lying on the bed and Vader’s larger body covered him. “My mirror.”

Frustrated, Anakin let out a huff and pulled at Vader’s collar, forcing the man down to him so that he could kiss him again. Every time they connected, Anakin felt giving a little more of himself to the connection between them, the bond that shouldn’t exist and yet did, working like an infinite feedback loop. Anakin felt Vader’s cold, felt his own heat, their arousal and primal need to be together.

“C’mon,” Anakin breathed against Vader’s lips. “ _Fuck me.”_

The Sith narrowed his eyes, disapproving of the order, and yanked roughly on Anakin’s braid, making him gasp. He was due to be knighted soon, his Master would cut his braid—

His thoughts were sharply interrupted by Vader once more pulling at the braid, directing Anakin’s head closer to his again. “Don’t think of Obi-Wan now.”

Flashes of bright longing and burning anger crossed Anakin’s mind, feelings he carefully cataloged before he allowed himself to return to reality.

“Make me forget then,” Anakin replied, pleasure knocking the breath out of him as Vader slid his hand into his pants and wrapped his fingers around Anakin’s cock.

Vader undressed Anakin with utmost care; uncharacteristically gently he stripped him out of his robes, one layer after another. There was something ritualistic to it all, the way he traced over every inch of exposed skin. It occurred to Anakin then that perhaps it would all go a little faster had he just gone through with his original plan of waiting undressed on his other half. But, perhaps, he should treasure the way Vader wrote _I love you, I love you, I love you_ into his skin and into his mind.

He worshipped Anakin as if he were an altar of the Force, his devotion running deeper than even the oldest hyperspace routes.

Vader left marks on Anakin’s skin, pressed bruises into the places where he had scars, and watched as they bloomed beneath his metal fingers. His hold on Anakin was so strong, he thought that Vader wouldn’t ever let go of him.

Anakin didn’t really feel like objecting either when Vader began kissing down his chest. Vader’s fingertips brushed over Anakin’s sensitive nipples, leaving him panting and attempting to press himself even closer to his counterpart. He wanted Vader to cover him completely, press him down into the sheets and bring that bliss that made the entire galaxy fade into background noise.

He tugged at Vader’s robes with trembling hands, whining when he couldn’t get them off. Vader only laughed silently, then shed his robes and carelessly tossed them on Anakin’s bedroom floor, revealing pale scarred skin that contrasted sharply against the black and gold prosthetics.

“Look what gifts you’ve given me,” Vader said. He took one of Anakin’s warm hands into his own, traced with it over the metal of his limbs, shuddering as if they could experience real touch. “So perfectly well crafted, you’ve more than exceeded everyone’s skills with your work, my light.”

Vader sang his praise with sweet whispers, watching Anakin squirm beneath him and teasing the most delicious sounds out of him. Anakin quickly grew addicted to the feeling of Vader’s hot breath on skin.

“You’re _mine_ ,” Vader growled, the possessiveness going straight to Anakin’s flushed cock. “Nobody else gets to see you like this, do they? The Chosen One, begging for my cock. Your light so bright, you should be displayed for the whole galaxy to see and remind all of them that your fate is tied to mine.”

“ _Please_ ,” Anakin cried, tears running so prettily over his face as a spread his legs, giving his counterpart the perfect view of his hole. “Stop teasing, I want you—”

Vader knew exactly what he wanted, their thoughts being one and the same. He could just picture Anakin on top of him, riding him until he reached blissful completion. He’d be stunning, ethereal, and Vader did not want to share that sight.

Without wasting another second, Vader slicked up his fingers and prodded Anakin’s entrance with a first. Anakin gasped into their kiss and eagerly pressed down Vader’s finger, relishing at the feeling of finally being filled.

Vader’s eyes never left Anakin’s, hungry gold meeting blue and Anakin thought he could come just like this, being the sole object of Vader’s adoration. His cock was certainly agreeing, twitching as Vader inserted a second finger, still not quite brushing against Anakin’s prostate yet, but scissoring him. When Anakin reached for his cock, he quickly found his hands pinned to the bed.

“Let me take care of you completely,” Vader said. “You will need for nothing with me by your side.”

“Then when will you— ah!” Anakin moaned, closing his eyes as Vader inserted a third finger and fucked him in earnest with them while his other hand wrapped around Anakin’s cock, metal thumb running over its tip.

Anakin was drowning in desire, getting lost in Vader, overwhelmed by their connection, sending back and forth their mutual need for each other, that burning heat. Cheeks red, sweat on his chest, he didn’t want for anything more than Vader to be inside him, to feel the drag of his cock and open himself up entirely to his mirror.

“Please, Vader, I need you. Only you, please, I’m ready—”

Vader’s patience finally snapped. He grabbed Anakin’s hips and flipped them around so that Anakin was sitting on his lap. Anakin summoned the bottle of lube and spread it generously on Vader’s cock.

 _This_ was how they were supposed to exist, blurring into one another, souls nearly one as Anakin lowered himself on Vader’s cock, shallow breaths escaping him. A moment passed, then two, until he dared to lift his hips again. Vader’s fingers were icy cold on his skin, yet their touch burned with an intensity he had never experienced before.

Vader met each and every of Anakin’s thrusts. Anakin felt so full, enjoyed raising his hips until only the tip of Vader’s cock was still within him, then he sunk down again until Vader was fully sheathed in him. In their passion, they dragged each other to new highs with each move. Closer than two people were ever meant to be, Anakin wondered how he had managed to bear the outside world on his own without Vader’s hand on the back of his neck, fucking into him with an unforgiving pace that contained the storm within Anakin, finally giving him peace and quiet.

More than even that, Anakin loved seeing the same emotions mirrored in Vader’s mind. While it was darker, shields of endless volcanoes where Anakin hid his core behind sandstorms, he could clearly read Vader’s arousal and content in the flower beads he laid his memories of Anakin. Seeing himself, so pliant, soft, and pure, filtered through Vader’s impression was almost too much for him.

“I’m not like that,” Anakin said, digging his fingers into Vader’s back, leaving scratch marks as a particularly deep thrust shook his body.

Vader only tilted his head, looking at Anakin with barely hidden rage. “You are so much _more_ than you’ve been taught. Let me show you.”

And if Anakin had thought that every previous touch had brought him close to divinity, he now realized how wrong he had been. Pleasure mixed with pain, eagerness translated to devotion. Vader wanted to be every thought on Anakin’s mind as he drove into him. Every other kiss was interrupted by another moan Vader coaxed out of Anakin until his thighs were shaking and he could no longer move on his own. He felt like a mess, taken apart entirely and reshaped by his counterpart into the vision he saw. The arousal made him dizzy, and Anakin was so, so _close_.

“Can you come just like this, my light?” Vader asked, slightly shifting his angle so that he made Anakin see stars. “Without a hand on your cock?”

“Yes, yes, please—” Anakin whined, all coherent thought lost as Vader’s mind entangled with his, weaving them together until they were truly one, basking in the depths of the Force, that deep pool Anakin had never dared to explore to the bottom, too afraid of what he might find.

All fear had vanished now as Vader brought him over the edge and Anakin came, his orgasm so strong that for a moment, they experienced eternity. Vader continued to fuck him through it, and within a few thrusts, he came too, spilling inside Anakin. Panting, Anakin collapsed on top of Vader. Metallic fingers ran through Anakin’s hair, wrapped around his Padawan braid, and tugged at it.

“You did so well, my light. You are so sweet, so wonderful.”

Almost lazily, Vader sucked another hickey into Anakin’s neck, another mark to the already bright collection. He wouldn’t be able to hide this one beneath his robes and that, in particular, was probably the reason Vader had done it. Slowly Vader pulled out of him, and if not for the fact that they needed to get clean, Anakin would complain. Still, he felt so _empty_ clenching around nothing when his dark side left him that he couldn’t muster up the energy to get up.

“Let’s remain like this a bit longer,” Anakin decided, closing his eyes, drawing on the Force to wrap them both in warmth, happiness, and satisfaction.

“As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> They're 20 and 28 respectively by the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> No smut yet, but next chapter.  
> "But Eli," you say, "how can Vader even have sex?"  
> And I tell you, I work based on The Rule of Darth Maul: the injury is where the smut demands it.  
> Idk what you're doing here expecting actually quality.


End file.
